


Psycho Boy

by BasementVampire



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Burns, Chemicals, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Crying, Dangerous, Dom Frank Iero, Dom/sub, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Name-Calling, No Lube, Oral Fixation, Pain, Painplay, Rough Sex, Sadism, Smut, Spit As Lube, Sub Gerard Way, Subspace, at the end, do not try this at home kids!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasementVampire/pseuds/BasementVampire
Summary: "The room goes silent again. Gerard swings his legs back and forth while Frank finishes prepping. It’s strangely casual—like he’s not sitting here waiting for Frank to do something sickeningly cruel to him."Gerard and Frank engage in some extreme sadomasochism.





	Psycho Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you all are doing well. I am so excited to finally post this fic; I've been working on it for quite some time now, and I'm pretty happy with how it ended up. Also, as an aside, if you're interested, I've just started a fan page on Instagram: @basement.vampire :)
> 
> Just a note: the acts contained in this fanfiction are unsafe and only written here for your enjoyment. Please do not try this!
> 
> Enjoy!

The kitchen is impeccably clean. The bleach-white tile bears no marks or stains, and the countertops are scrubbed spotless. The sterile smell burns Gerard’s nose where he’s perched on the table.

“The safeword is red.” Frank pulls on a black rubber glove and turns to face the other man, something predatory darkening his eyes.

“You know I won’t use it.”

Frank smirks, pulling a glove onto his other hand. He releases it with a snap. “I know.”

The room goes silent again. Gerard swings his legs back and forth while Frank finishes prepping. It’s strangely casual—like he’s not sitting here waiting for Frank to do something sickeningly cruel to him.

In their sterile kitchen, Frank places a plastic container, a little measuring spoon, a washcloth, and a bowl of something that smells unmistakably of vinegar on the table. Gerard feels like he’s gonna puke, and he doesn’t dare ask Frank what he’s planning to do to him.

Frank lays a hand on each of Gerard’s thighs and leans in, breathing, “Do you trust me?”

The other man swallows hard; now he’s really scared. But he answers dutifully. “Yes. You know I do, Frankie.”

“Good.” He brushes his lips against Gerard’s in a gentle kiss. “Because what I’m about to do is going to hurt a lot.”

“I love you.” It comes out as a broken whisper.

“I love you, too, angelboy.”

Frank grasps one of Gerard’s hands his and lifts it between them. “This is a chemical burn.”

Gerard’s breath stops in his throat and he feels dizzy. “Oh, god. No. Frank, no,” he stutters, shaking his head.

Frank shushes him gently. “You can use the safeword. But if you let me do this, I’ll show you what it’s really like to lose control. To be torn apart and put back together.”

So even though Gerard’s nauseated and anxious tears are pricking at his eyes, he nods and gives Frank the go-ahead. Because that’s all he wants—to utterly lose control. To let Frank own him, abuse him, scar him. Gerard wants pain and humiliation and suffering.

“This is lye,” Frank says, gesturing to the plastic container filled with a powdery white substance. “And it’s going to hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s going to burn into your skin at two hundred degrees and leave a nice, pretty scar.”

Frank lifts Gerard’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, leaving a smear of saliva in his wake. Then he pauses, like he’s giving Gerard one last chance to back out. But they’re both so fucked up that Gerard doesn’t stop him, and Frank grabs the lye off the table and slowly sprinkles some of the powder onto his wet kiss.

A scream tears its way out of Gerard’s throat. Pain shoots through his hand like a white-hot flame, burning, burning, burning. He jerks back, dizzy and sick and unaware of everything but Frank standing in front of him and the agony of the lye searing his skin.

Another wordless cry escapes Gerard, this time broken off by a sob. Tears stream down his face and he gasps for breath, shaking. He can feel Frank’s hand resting on his thigh, and he’s cooing, “Does it hurt, psycho boy?”

Yes, Gerard wants to shout. The lye feels like a thousand cigarettes burning into his hand. He can smell his flesh charring, and he doesn’t dare to look down.

Here’s Gerard, screaming and convulsing in their pristine kitchen. With his other hand, he claws at Frank, desperate and lightheaded and writhing in pain. Blackness eats at the edge of his vision, and he wonders vaguely if that’s something he should be worried about.

This is what pain is. This is suffering. And in some sick way, Gerard can’t get enough of it. He feels used. Marked. Torn apart, just like Frank said. He’s given himself up completely.

Gerard can hardly breathe. He feels himself slipping as he chokes on sobs and shakes violently. And then finally, like he knows exactly how much Gerard can take, Frank is blotting at his hand with a vinegar-soaked cloth. At last, the burning subsides, giving way to a dull ache that Gerard welcomes as he collapses into Frank’s arms.

“Sh, I’ve got you,” Frank murmurs soothingly. He finishes cleaning Gerard’s hand and then removes his gloves, holding Gerard and petting his hair. “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Gerard moans softly in pain. Everything is a blur as Frank bandages his hand and leads him to their bedroom. When he sits down on the bed, Gerard realizes, stricken, that despite the blinding pain, he’s hard. He pulls Frank down on top of him, staring up with hazy eyes.

“Please, Frankie?” he whines, clutching desperately at his lover.

Frank looks almost surprised that Gerard would be up for anything tonight. He asks, “Do you want me to jerk you off?”

The offer is tempting, but Gerard needs more than that. He needs Frank’s cock in his ass, tearing him apart and making him scream. “Fuck me,” he begs.

Frank falters. Gerard knows exactly what is going through his mind, because now that the scene is over, he’s gone back to being his normal, sweet self. The Frank hovering over Gerard isn’t the same Frank that was burning his hand in the kitchen; normal Frank is gentle and caring when their sessions are over. He wants to comfort Gerard and cuddle with him and whisper soothing words in his ear. And yes, Gerard adores that side of him and definitely appreciates that Frank is merely considering what’s best for Gerard at the moment, but Gerard really just wants to get fucked.

With a hand threaded in Frank’s hair, Gerard grinds up against him, trying to convince Frank that he’s far from being done. “I promise I’ll use the safeword if it’s too much.”

“How do you want it?” Frank asks, giving in.

“Like this.” He moans when Frank ruts against him, tugging instinctively on Frank’s hair. “I want to see you.”

For a while, that’s all it is—grinding and kissing. But both men are impatient, and soon they’re naked and panting and shaking, filling the dark silence with gasps and moans and sighs. Frank is trying to be gentle with Gerard, like he’ll break at any moment. Which, of course, is exactly what Gerard wants.

He whines, “I need it hard. Fuck me like an animal.”

Like a sharp flash of lightning, that dominant look returns to Frank’s eyes. It makes Gerard’s stomach turn.

Frank puts two fingers to Gerard’s mouth, growling, “Open.”

Gerard obeys and lets Frank shove his fingers down Gerard’s throat. Frank thrusts them back until Gerard’s choking, before pulling back and doing it all over again. After a few moments, Gerard’s eyes are watering and he wishes vaguely that it were Frank’s cock forcing his throat open.

Then, Frank pushes his fingers back and fucking keeps them there, making Gerard gag harshly, squirming. He can feel himself about to puke, and swats at Frank’s hand desperately. Frank finally pulls his fingers away and leaves Gerard coughing and gasping, tears running down his cheeks.

“You like to choke on my fingers, princess?” Frank asks.

Gerard nods. “Yeah.” His voice is raspy and broken.

Frank trails his spit-slick fingers down Gerard’s chest and to his ass, shoving back one of Gerard’s legs so his foot is flat on the mattress.

“I love how flexible you are,” Frank says, going right for it and pushing his fingers into Gerard without warning.

The older man gasps, letting out a depraved moan. Everything feels so sharp and hot and intense and Frank doesn’t waste any time before starting to thrust his fingers into Gerard.

“Do you want lube,” Frank rasps, “or do you want it like this?”

Gerard whines high in his throat. “Fuck, like this. Make it hurt.”

After pulling out his fingers, Frank spits on his hand and grabs his cock, stroking himself a few times before lining up with Gerard’s hole. He pushes in, fast and unforgiving, and once he’s bottomed out, Gerard is crying a little.

“You good?” Frank asks, stroking his lover’s hair. He knows Gerard wants it rough, but he still worries that it’ll be too much.

Gerard whimpers, nodding and holding onto Frank like he’ll die if he lets go. “Go, please,” he begs.

It’s hard and fast from the get-go—Frank bending his lover in half and fucking him so hard the headboard is banging into the wall, and Gerard's sobbing and writhing under him as his spot is hit on almost every thrust. It’s so hot and it’s almost too much. Gerard squeezes his eyes shut and just listens to Frank’s moans and panting breaths.

When he looks up again, Gerard searches for his dom’s eyes to ground him. They catch his in a lecherous gaze, dark and burning with lust. But even with Frank there, Gerard can feel himself slipping.

Frank continues to pound into him, and Gerard’s eyes glaze over, and he’s losing himself in the pleasure. He goes limp in Frank’s arms, and drifts off somewhere until he feels Frank’s hand connect with his face. It’s not hard, not mean—just enough to pull him back.

“I can’t have you going under before I make you come,” Frank mutters, and the tightness of his voice tells Gerard that he’s close, too.

Gerard moans and squirms as Frank jerks him off, then he’s coming, and he’s gone. Everything fades out as his lover continues to fuck him.

When Gerard comes back out of subspace, Frank is holding him and stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. “You did so good, Gerard,” he says. He murmurs, “I love you so much, darling.”

Gerard blink the darkness away, and looks up into Frank’s soft, caring face. Everything is so different now from when they started. Now the game’s over, and Frank isn’t the cruel or sadistic dom he likes to play the part of—he’s just Frank. Sweet, gentle Frank, who Gerard loves so much.

Everything is still a little fuzzy, and all Gerard can think to say is, “My hand hurts.”

Frank presses a light kiss to the other man’s forehead. “Are you okay, love?”

Gerard nods. “Thank you,” he rasps.

“Do you want a bath, or just go to sleep?”

Sighing sleepily, Gerard considers it for a moment. “Let me rest a minute while you draw a bath.”

Frank smiles, pulling Gerard closer for a moment. “Okay, baby. I love you.”

Gerard hums in agreement. “I love you, too. Everything was so good tonight.”

Then Frank gets up to run the water, and Gerard’s eyes flutter shut. He’ll have to get up again in a moment, but for now he’s content, curled in the blankets and thinking only of being held in Frank’s arms in the warm water.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And remember to be safe, kids.
> 
> ~constructive criticism welcome~


End file.
